Se Ri Pak's Tour Diary

As originally written by Se Ri Pak for Joong Ang Ilbo. Translation by LoveGiants

Diary Entry #5: Training at the Dog Fighting Ring

These days, I always take Happy with me. She is a 350-dollar beagle female puppy. I bought her before I won the Open. Now, I'm with my parents, but before they came to the U.S, I felt lonely at home, where no one was there and there were no galleries cheering. But since I bought Happy, I don't feel lonely at home any more. Because I know she is waiting for me there. It seems that father doesn't like me to be with Happy. It is possible that he wants me to keep a fierce dog for dog fighting, though he says nothing.

Father often took me to a dog fighting ring when I was first deciding to become a professional golfer. I sat in the front row and had to watch the dogs fight to the death. Usually a female dog fought with a male dog. They bit each other, growling savagely. Soon, they became covered with blood all over. It was a terrible scene. I felt disgusted, nauseated. I stood up to go out of there several times, but father kept me from going away each time.

I endured it all and came to understand him and his purpose of training me in such odd ways.

"Look at that female dog. She knows how to be a winner. She seems to casually watch her rival, but she never lowers her guard. When she finds the unguarded points of her rival, she jumps upon it and tears it into pieces."

Was I too harsh? I could imagine the triumphant winner. I could understand the way she became a winner. She even looked splendid. Father emphasized the fact that the female dogs were usually good fighters. "Women can be stronger than men. If you want to play the baby to others, to be tearful because you are a girl, stop everything. You had better stop trying to become a golf professional."

He told me never to show my weak points to others, even to myself. His belief is that a girl can get weaker and weaker once she shows her weakness. I had to forget that I was a girl. No; I came to believe that I could be stronger because I was a girl and knew what it took to be a winner. When I play with other players, they are surprised that I know how to calm myself down. They say I have a poker face.

I do not practice my swing when the other player does. Instead, I watch her doing it. I begin to prepare when my turn comes. So my play is rather slow and is often criticized. But this is my way to win, the way I've learned on my own.

To see me love Happy so much, my father may be afraid that I am now too tender to be a winner. Maybe he wants to take me to the dog fighting ring again. But I still have a tender heart in me.

Diary Entry #6: Stepping Up and Down the Stairs

Nowadays, I often hear people saying in jest, "Se Ri must be a cyborg." They say that because I've participated in three events in a row, from the Open, to the JAL Big Apple Classic. Each event has 4 official rounds, (the Open also had the sudden death round), and 2 days of practice rounds. Including the pro-am, I've been on the course all month long.

Certainly, I'm a human being. Neither Pinocchio nor Jamie Sommers, I'm a common girl who wants to hide her legs when the T.V. camera focuses on them.
"Thanks to" my father, my legs are very strong. Father demanded I do an enormous amount of physical training. I obeyed whatever he told me to do, and he demanded I do whatever he thought was good for my golf game.

Among the more painful parts of my training, walking up and down stairs was very effective. Since I started playing golf, I have done this in our 15-floor apartment house almost every day. It's intended to strengthen the lower part of the body. My father was a single digit handicap golfer and knew the importance of strong legs in golf.

Walking up and down all the stairs 5 times was so painful. I rather liked going up the stairs. Because, when I went down, I had to step backwards, and I couldn't imagine anything more painful than that. When stepping backwards down a stairway, you have no choice but to go down step by step, however exhausted and impatient you are. It's very painful.

I often made a face from the pain. Then father would scold me, saying, "There's nothing you can accomplish easily in a day." One day, I was stepping backwards painfully as usual when father asked, "Is it so painful?" After saying this, he began to go down the stairs backwards with me. He acted triumphant when he completed 2 floors. But after he had gone down 5 floors, his face became distorted with pain, and finally he gave up.

I learned a good lesson from walking down stairs backwards. It was more than just training for my legs. The lesson I learned was one of patience. It taught me how to go step by step in difficult situations.

I can still picture myself standing at the top of the 15-floor apartment building whenever I become impatient. Now my legs are so strong that they always support me hard and fast for consecutive events, but mother often jokes, "Who on the earth would marry you once they see your muscular legs?"